Retreat experience

From Ansgar Holmberg

 

Last week I lived 38 hours in complete solitude in the backyard hut. I had a bed, a small altar, a cushion for sitting zazen.

A bowl, chopsticks and a wooden spoon.

A cup and water pitcher for drinking.

A bucket for washing, a towel and a wash cloth.

A bar of soap. My toothbrush.

Myself.

 

No book.

No paper and pen.

No lamp but candle light.

The moon sometimes.

 

A bowl of food for breakfast.

Another for lunch.

No more for the rest of the day.

But a glass of juice-tea.

A word of encouragement now and then– written– found outside my door.

 

I sat. I walked. I sat. I breathed.